


Just A Pretty Face

by just_desserts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Matchmaker Charlie, Supportive Bobby, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5346221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_desserts/pseuds/just_desserts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has always been in the dark as to Sam's hidden feelings for him. But when a computer prank goes seriously wrong, they each face the fact that their relationship could change forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this awhile ago and am still trying to figure out where my plot is going to go. No smut or anything, just some fluffy crap I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated!! <3 *^_^*

Just a Pretty Face

Dean has always had an issue with keeping out of other people's business. It's a habit, almost as if its addicting to annoy the hell out of people, or just to snoop through things. Not that he's a snobby teenage girl who's riffling through gossip. Once in awhile, it's to cover someone's ass, aka his younger brother.

In the case of that fateful day in the middle of a Minnesota winter, Dean had logged onto his favorite website, Busty Asian Beauties, just to get on his brother's nerves. He never expected it to go beyond that...

"What sort of sick person-"

Sam doesn't finish his sentence. Dean glances up from the shitty motel TV and over to his younger brother who's sitting in the small desk chair, clearly surpassing the weight and height restrictions that should be, and probably are, in fine print on the seat. His laptop is full of multiple research pages for their latest hunt, but the one that's in front shows a website with a stunning woman in a low cut, tight top and a suspender undergarment.

"Uh, what's wrong, Sammy?" Dean clears his throat, trying to focus his attention back to the TV, but failing miserably.

"Dean," the other Winchester says with that bitchy tone he can sometimes take on in his PMS moods. "What. The. Hell."

Dean shrugs, trying to stave off any other ridiculous comments. "What?" He says in a slightly defensive, innocent tone. Usually this would be impossible for most, but with him? Anything in the realm of impossible can be done.

"Why were you looking up 'busty Asian beauties' on my laptop?" Sam spins around and asks in an incredulous tone.

"Why do you assume it's me?" He throws a handful of chips into his mouth from the bag lying next to him on the bed, hoping to make one more distraction for himself.

"Possibly because you're the only other person in the entire world that has access to this computer? And because this is precisely something you would look up-"

Dean shrugs again, chewing thoughtfully. "What does it matter, Sam?"

He sees Sam stand up, exiting out of the browser and slamming the screen shut.

"Just stay the hell out of my stuff, Dean," Sam gives him a bitch-faced look before walking into the bathroom and closing the door with a loud thud. The click of the lock sounds a second later, ensuring that Dean won't come barging in on him.

"Duly noted!" He shouts in the direction of the door before the water turns on. Dean rolls his eyes. God, he thinks before throwing some more chips into his mouth.

His eyes slowly creep to look at the laptop though, staring at it, not blinking. It's a standoff, and Dean guffaws at himself as he forces his eyes to leave the device and back to the sitcom on the TV screen. He hears the crowd laugh at something funny, but he barely notices since his attention is completely diverted.

It wasn't usually like Sam to get pissed off so easily at something Dean had done to him over a dozen times before... Unless something was up.

His eyes again venture towards the computer and this time he shakes his head, looking back to watch the episode segment. One of the characters does something klutzy, and the laughs resound through the speakers, but he only manages a smile.

He casually glances over at the laptop, this time sighing and getting up off the bed, his curiosity winning out. He throws down the bag of chips next to him on the desk space and cautiously opens the lid. Dean listens intently for any signs that Sam will come bursting through the door, but it doesn't sound like he'll be done showering anytime soon.

He quickly types in the password to log in and scrolls over the countless browsers that are minimized once the desktop screen appears. All of them are for that vengeful spirit laying low in St. Paul that they'd caught wind of a few days ago.

He creases his brow, though he didn't expect to find much else and is about to log off when he thinks of something. A smirk spreads across his face as he goes into the computer's settings and finds what his little brother has been up to recently under his history.

Scrolling through, he's at first disappointed by the long list of articles he finds, but smiles when he clicks on the computer icon next to an entry labeled 'Winchester'. By the date, Sam had opened it up and edited it less than a week ago.

Dean's puzzlement only continues as he sees the document's title is named 'Dean'.

"Huh-" he says to himself as he clicks on it to open it and begins to read.

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this. I usually don't write down anything for our family unless they're... gone. Like with mom and dad's files. But I guess I need to say why that's different; because of everything that's changed, because I've changed...

Yesterday was the day that Dean came back from the reaper in the hospital, the day that his sub conscience was released from the prison like state he was in following the crash, the day that dad died and went to hell, just as I had told him to not hours before that. I know now why he did it, though I didn't at the time. He did it to save Dean from his own premature death, he made a deal with a demon to save his oldest son. Yesterday also marked the day that my safety net of family fell through, when I realized I had always expected dad and Dean to be there for me. Guess I was wrong.

This isn't a pity party or a story about dad. This is about Dean, the most human, the bravest, the most loyal person I've met in my entire life. He's always someone I can count on, always someone that's there for me, to forgive me when I'm wrong.

I love my brother. Dean would kick my ass for admitting such a thing, but I've said it, though it hardly matters since I'll be the only one to ever read this.

Dean stifles a laugh.

But it's not the kind of 'hey, man' love that I know Dean has for me. Not the brotherly love that makes us inseparable, though I will always have that love for him. The kind of lovey-dovey bullshit that you read in books or see in movies. The chick-flick moment kind of love.

I am in love with Dean Winchester...

I fell for him the way you fall down stairs. At first, painful, resistant, but then less so. I gradually learned to accept, to embrace it in fact. I knew that trying to fight it would only make it worse since I had loved him practically since he had kidnapped me from Stanford to go looking for dad. After Jess had died, it had gotten worse until I couldn't control it anymore. I finally had had to admit it to myself...

I'm insane, yes I know. I'm well aware that to love your own brother in that way is beyond sick, demented and disturbed even. But it can't be helped. He is the most flawless, yet messed up person I know, and I would rather spend a thousand days battling to get him back then to let him put himself in danger for my sake or his.

There's a break in the page after this first entry and Dean blinks. What the hell did he just read...? Like, what in the absolute hell?

He suddenly hears the bathroom go quiet as the water turns off. Exiting out of the document and deleting it from the history, he logs off and practically slams the lid closed. He grabs his chips and quickly goes back to lay on the bed, watching the sitcom as if nothing had happened.

His heart is pounding in his chest as the door to the bathroom opens and a cloud of steam and his younger brother rush out. Sam's got nothing but a towel on and Dean swallows, hard, to keep from letting his mind drift back to the document.

"Dean?" Sam asks, but it seems to take him forever to process what he's said.

"Mhmm," he hums instead of opening his mouth to answer, because what could he possibly say to him right now?

"You know where my comb is?"

"Uh, I don't think so-"

Sam nods and is about to turn around but pauses in the doorway. "You alright?"

"Mhmm-" Dean doesn't even glance over to look at him, knowing his absence of a usual witty response is putting his brother on edge.

Sam pauses. "Hey, I didn't mean to snap at you before. I just don't want you to be doing shit like that on my computer is all. It could get a virus or something,"

Dean clears his throat to keep from calling him a liar. "Oh, yeah. Makes sense,"

He can see out of his peripheral vision that Sam's brow creases. "So, we good then?"

"Mhmm-" Dean nods his head vigorously and shoots Sam a smile, but he can tell by his reaction that's it's not his usual smirk.

"Alright," Sam trails off as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Dean sinks into the bed more, the bag of chips crackling under his hand.

Let the game of feigned ignorance begin...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV. Being on the road and taking a quick stop are making things more strained than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry for not updating sooner. I've had a lot on my plate, but a good friend of mine from IG wanted to me post another chapter so I wrote it quickly this weekend. Be prepared for the third one shortly!

Something was wrong. If Dean were pissed he would be acting incredibly rude, making outlandish jokes at Sam’s expense and giving him dirty looks every time his brother spoke. It wasn’t like him to sulk or be upset about things either unless something was really bothering him, but Sam for the life of him could not figure out what had happened.  
“So I was thinking we’d get back on the road after breakfast? I know it’s early but we could get a head start on tracking down that shape-shifter in Eagle River.” He said, his hands tapping his fork nervously on the eggs in front of him.  
\\\ Dean merely shrugged and ripped off a chunk of bacon from one of the strips on his own plate without looking up. Sam narrowed his eyes, determined to get something out of him. If nothing else, a look of contempt would do.  
“We could be there by dinnertime if we don’t make any stops. That sound good to you?”  
His older brother barely nodded his head as he leaned down and tore into his pancakes viscously. The syrup on them oozed over the sides and Sam watched with an aching feeling in his gut.  
“Okay, what the hell’s the matter?” he asked, his voice coming out harsher than he meant it.  
Dean looked up in surprise, the first time since yesterday morning when they’d crashed at the motel. His green eyes were wide and confused and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Now was not the time to be gazing longingly’, he reminded himself and took a deep breath.  
“Uh, nothing.”  
“No, not nothing. What happened to make you all bitchy?”  
Dean narrowed his eyes as well, looking down at his plate again and grumbling. “Nothing, would you fucking lay off?”  
Sam huffed, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “I will not ‘lay off’. We need to talk about whatever’s going on-“  
Dean clenched his teeth and shoved a bite of food into his mouth. “No, we really don’t.”  
“Dean-“  
Dean glared up at him from under those full eyelashes of his. “Sam, just stop, alright? Everything’s fine. I’m fine, the case is fine. You’re the only one that’s not fine.”  
Sam bunched his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
Dean didn’t respond.  
He looked at the older Winchester, how his golden hair danced in the sunlight coming through the bay windows, how his eyes shimmered in a green glow, how his smile was infectious. Sam couldn’t help the small flutter that happened in his stomach and cleared his throat to halt his thoughts before he got too carried away and had to excuse himself to the nearest bathroom without blushing.  
God, did they have work to do.

Sam glanced at the road in front of them, the sun high in the sky and casting short shadows of the cars next to them. He would be people watching more, but that was kind of hard to do when all the cars were whizzing past them so quickly, there were fingers being flipped in their direction.  
He glanced over to Dean, whose eyes were peeled on the road, his arms taught and muscular as if he were on edge. The radio blared some classic rock song by REO Speedwagon which usually made Sam cringe, but he was more distracted by his brother than the music.  
He cleared his throat and sat up in his seat a bit more. “Looks like there’s a gas station up ahead on the right,” Sam said, pointing at the sign on the side of the road.  
Dean glanced to the sign as they passed it and made a mumbling sound, as if shrugging it off.  
Sam rolled his eyes and took out his phone as it chimed to alert him of a message. It was from Bobby who was most likely replying to his text from before. “Man, we need to stop. You’ve been driving for 6 hours.” He read through the text quick, staring as another car passed them. “Besides, at the rate you’re going we won’t get there until midnight.”  
Dean glared in his direction and finally nodded after glancing at the gas level, turning off and pulling into one of the pumps. He pulled the Impala into park before he attempted to get out, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his arm.  
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything, Dean?” he heard himself ask, even as Dean kept sliding out of the car.  
The older Winchester pulled his arm away like he’d been touched by a hot iron, his eyes wide and slightly freaked out.  
Sam held up his arms. “Woah. Okay.”  
Dean blinked, and his face relaxed back into the typical bitch face he had been wearing the past two days. “Pump the gas, would you.” He said in that clipped tone he’d taken on.  
He got out, slamming the door behind him. Sam got out too and called after him as he made his way toward the pump. “Get some good food.”  
“Pies it is-“  
Sam smiled before the glass door closed behind his brother and he clenched his jaw, exhaling. Grabbing the handle off one of the pumps, he set it in the fuel intake of the Impala before fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing his third speed dial. It only rang four times before someone picked up.  
“Hello?”  
“Bobby, hey.” Sam didn’t realize he’d been holding in his breath until he let it out in relief. Hearing Bobby Singer’s voice usually put him at ease, especially if he had no fucking clue what the hell was happening.  
“Hey, Sam. I got your message before. What’s up?”  
Sam glanced at the rolling numbers on the pump as they scrolled by and sighed. “It’s Dean.”  
There was silence for a beat before Bobby sighed too. “That idjit. Always going out and doing something stupid. What is it this time?”  
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me anything. But I’m starting to feel like he’s holding something back,” He swallowed, tapping his hand on the trunk nervously and turning to face the door so he could disconnect before Dean came through if need be.  
“Well, is it something to do with the hunt you boys are on? The shape-shifter?” Bobby’s voice was taking on a worried tone which always put a bit of terror in Sam’s gut.  
He swallowed again. “Uh, I don’t think so.”  
“When did this all start?”  
“You’re thorough, I’ll give you that boy. Explains why you’ve always been the best.”  
Sam gave a small chuckle, though it was mostly out of pure anxiousness as he took the nozzle out of the car, placing it back on the pump. “Yeah, well. In this instance I can’t seem to crack the case.”  
Bobby laughed through the line and something comforting spread through Sam’s chest. “It’s Dean, Sam. He can never be cracked.”  
Sam’s smile slowly faded as he glanced back at the convenience store.  
“Listen, just call if anything else comes up, alright? Case or otherwise.”  
“Take care of yourself boy. I don’t want to be hearing about a cross-country murder of a man by his brother, you hear?”  
He felt a stupid grin flit onto his face. “Yeah, we won’t be trying to kill each other, or at least not any more than usual. I’ll call you if anything changes. Thanks,”  
Sam disconnected the line, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He leaned against the Impala’s side, staring down at the phone in his hands. He didn’t even notice when Dean came out of the store and marched over to the car, arms full of Hostess fruit pies and bagels with a cream cheese container.  
“You done pumping or what?”  
Sam blinked out of his thoughts and looked up quickly, glancing from Dean’s face to the food. “Uh, that’s a lot of carbs.”  
Dean shrugged and rolled his eyes. “We’re two grown men, I think we need to eat a little, don’t you?”  
Sam smiled, taking the keys off of Dean’s finger as he tried to unlock it. “Uh-uh, you’re not driving. At least not until we get to Eagle River.”  
His brother started bitching and complaining but eventually went to the passenger side and dumped the food on the bench space between their legs. Sam tried not to feel that yawning space in his chest, and instead tried to focus on the normality of this, but somewhere deep down he knew it wouldn’t last.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is still acting distant and unattached. But maybe a phone call with Charlie will plant something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys haven't gotten mad at me so far. It took me awhile to write the second chapter from Sam's perspective since he doesn't really know what's going on, but I hope you like this update as well as where I'm taking the plot.

Dean wasn’t sure if he or Sam were more naïve. When it came to hunting, Sam was the brains and Dean the brawn, something everyone knew. But he was questioning whether or not it was smart of Sam to have the evidence he had on his computer. Why would he type something like that out for someone to see and not keep it in that head of his? Was it so that Dean would eventually find it? Did he want that so Dean could feel the same way, because Sam hoped he did?  
He’d had a lot to think about. And it was driving him crazy.  
“I’m gonna go pick up some burgers,” he said in a low tone in Sam’s direction. Dean grabbed his jacket and wallet and made sure he had one of the motel keys in his pocket before he reached for the handle.  
“Okay. Be safe.” Sam said in a lighter tone than usual, his body facing the other way as he opened the door and made his way towards Baby.   
Dean almost scoffed. ‘Be safe?’ How, as a hunter, could you ever possibly be safe? His younger brother was losing his touch, growing to be more over-protective than ever. It had mostly started when Dean had gotten pissed, had stopped talking or making eye-contact after reading that damn document. How could he act normal with the knowledge that Sam was in love with him?  
He couldn’t do this. He knew it deep down. Dean couldn’t keep up this façade up, pretending to be in the dark about it all, all the while sleeping in the bed next to him, driving in the now uncomfortable silence with him and making it seem as if nothing big was wrong. But something most definitely was.  
Sighing, he opened the driver’s door before realizing he hadn’t asked what Sam had wanted. He clenched his jaw and walked back to the door, unlocking it quietly and peeking his head in.  
Sam was on his stomach lying on the bed, typing furiously on his computer on some sort of document. Dean could feel his heart catch in his throat and he suddenly couldn’t breathe because somehow he knew, just knew it was his document. He was going to close the door, get Sam some healthy wrap or something and jump in the Impala, trying to forget like he’d ever seen this, but something stopped him.  
Instead, he swallowed, stepping into the room a bit more and letting the door close behind him. Sam jumped slightly and turned the computer away from Dean as he looked up at him, Dean’s eyes boring into his, trying to pull an answer out in his response to his unasked question.  
“What do you want on your burger?” he heard himself say, his tone harsh. He could see in the younger Winchester’s face that they both knew this wasn’t about any burger toppings. No, it was something more. But he could see Sam didn’t know what.  
Sam swallowed, his eyebrows bunching as confusion took over his panicked face. “What?”  
Dean sighed, scuffing his boot on the carpet as he glanced down before he met his brother’s eyes again, this time his gaze a little less captivating and fierce. He tried to remember that Sam didn’t know he’d read it, how much turmoil he was in on the inside. That he couldn’t handle this on top of everything else. “What burger do you want?”  
Sam blinked, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed, the laptop closed behind him and in sleep mode now. Dean tried not to stare too long at it, but when he looked back at his brother he could see something different in his face now.  
“Dean-“  
Dean took in a deep breath too fast, his hand already on the door knob. “Wrap it is then. I’ll make it chicken, I know you like that.”  
He had already opened the door when a large hand came over and closed it, not moving even as he tried to open it again.  
“Dean, what-“  
“Not now, Sam.”  
“Yes, now. We need to talk about this.” Sam’s tone was urgent, and he could tell he was scared. His voice sounded too high to be his younger brother’s. That made his own heart beat faster.  
Dean gave a scoff, playing dumb as to what he was talking about. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but dinner takes priority. I’m hungry as hell. Now,” he turned to face Sam, giving him the best bitch face he could muster, “I’m leaving to go pick something up. You can come if you want to, but I suggest you stay here to hold down the fort. Do some more research-“  
He yanked open the door, throwing Sam’s hand away but he didn’t have time to feel bad about that. Trudging back out to the car, he climbed into the driver’s side and started the ignition, ignoring Sam’s face peering out the door with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his.  
He would regret his choices if he looked at his face too long.  
Instead, he pulled the seatbelt across his chest and pulled into reverse, speeding out of the motel parking lot and into the small town. The burger joint he’d seen on their way through was only a half a mile away, though that seemed like the whole distance across because of its small size. In the meantime, while he was still in absurdly slow traffic that must have contained half-blind old men in shitty cars, he called Charlie again. He’d called her in the gas station, the only stop before they reached Eagle River, but she hadn’t picked up and he’d left an urgent message.  
Dean smiled as the phone rang, thinking back to his call log which showed she’d called six times out of concern. He wasn’t surprised, but it still meant a lot to him.  
“Dean-“ she said, her voice sounding distraught.   
He smiled into the phone, the first one that had reached his face in over a day. “Hey, Charlie-“  
“What the fuck Winchester? You didn’t say much in your message and then don’t get back to me? You could have wrung each other’s necks and I would have never known what the whole problem was!”  
Dean turned right at one of the stoplights, a sigh escaping his lips. “Look, I couldn’t talk with Sam around.”  
He could almost see her eye roll. “You could have said that in your message, Dean,”  
“Yeah, but I didn’t think of it. I’m never exactly good when I’m under pressure.”  
She sighed. “Don’t go all David Bowie, Freddie Mercury on my ass now.”  
He let out a long, slow breath. “What? Under Pressure? Not even that good of a song, Charlie-“  
“You take that back!” she said through the phone and he had to stifle a laugh as to not give her the satisfaction. “Well what’s happened then? Did you find porn you don’t approve of on Sam’s computer? You mentioned something about his laptop but I didn’t completely understand it-“  
Dean didn’t say anything for a while, his mind drifting to the words that had been brandished into his mind. He didn’t think he could forget them if he tried. “I found some documents on his computer.”  
“Okaaaay, why’s that a problem?”  
Dean clenched his jaw as he parked, the sun setting on the horizon and bathing everything in orange light. “There was one that was titled with my name. It was in his history log.”  
Charlie gave a small giggle on the other end. “Wow, Dean. I had no clue you knew how to technology.”  
Dean cracked a smile despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. No need to ask what was in it or anything.”  
“Fine. What did it say?”  
He took in a deep breath, trying not to let his heart beat too rapidly in his chest. “Charlie, you’re not gonna believe this-“  
“I believe almost anything, Dean, I’ve been to ComiCon.”  
He paused, his hand slipping down the steering wheel and resting in his lap. “It said he loves me.”  
She got quiet. “Well of course he does, he’s your brother.”  
“No, I mean he’s in love with me,”  
The other end went silent for more than a couple moments.  
“Charlie?”  
“I know, Dean.”  
“Know what? What do you mean you know?”  
He could sense her wariness, as if she was trying not to disclose too much. “I know he loves you, known for a while actually.”  
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he said, his voice sounding sinister and quiet. He wouldn’t have liked to been on the other end right now.  
“It’s not place to do that, and you know it. Don’t blame me just because you’re scared.”  
He clenched his jaw, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he did so. “You’re right, I’m sorry-“ he said after the dead air passed.  
“But it’s not something to be freaked out over. It’s Sam-“  
“And that’s exactly why I should be freaked out. He’s my brother,”  
She hummed in a positive response.  
“What? Are you seriously saying I should just accept this?”  
She scoffed. “I’m not saying anything, Dean. All I know is that Sam is a good guy who cares about you and loves you for who you are. Can’t say that about the rest of the people you’ve been interested in the past couple months,”  
Dean clenched his jaw. “Who says I’m interested in him?”  
He could hear Charlie smile through the phone, her words sounding as if she were farther away than just through a phone. “I didn’t. Just-“ she trailed off. “Give him time, Dean. You may not hate the idea after a while.”  
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll call you when that happens.”  
“I’ll be watching my phone at all hours, Winchester. Come through on that.”  
“Yeah, yeah. Beat it.”  
“Don’t go all Michael Jackson on my ass.”  
He suppressed a smile. “I’m hanging up now-“  
Dean could hear her protests as he ended the call, his mind trying to focus on too many things for him to make sense of any one of them right now.  
All he could help thinking as he stared up at the fading light receding behind the burger joint was that he wished he had Sam to talk to about his problem.  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry for not updating in ages. Things have been absolutely crazy and I should take the time, but I don't. I love you guys for still sticking with me if you're reading this <3 Hope you enjoy this very 'revealing' chapter ;) Please give me any feedback you may have; it means a lot to me to read your guy's comments and to know people still read this!

It was getting late and while Sam was worried about if Dean had found his way to the food, he was more panicked if something worse had happened to his older brother.  
The exchange they’d had right before he’d walked out again had been more than slightly odd. Dean was clearly upset about something, but Sam had been trying to narrow it down for the past fifteen minutes since he’d left and was still at a dead end as he lay on the bed. Nothing seemed right. The way he was acting, his actions, his words. It was as if Sam had done something to cause this all, but he couldn’t pinpoint what, if anything.  
Sighing, he rolled over onto his stomach and finally reopened his laptop and logged in when it popped up. His fingers slid over the familiar keys and he let a small smile slip onto his lips as the pages he’d had open before popped up. Lores for their latest hunt on a demon that left no traces on the people it possessed, but he was growing bored with that. He needed to distract himself, let his mind wander to something he hadn’t done in a while.   
Maybe if he just wrote one entry about Dean, it would help.  
Opening up his History for the computer, rather than going through the painstaking process of tearing through his desktop to find it under the countless folders he’d created over the years, he started to scroll, but stopped. His eyes slid over a familiar word that was much more recent than he remembered it being before:  
Dean.  
Sam squinted his eyes at the screen, something finally clicking in his brain as he went over each letter and glanced at the date it had been opened. His hands fell from the keys, pushing on the bed until he was sitting up, seated on the other end of the bed, as far away from the laptop as possible.  
He stared at it again, just to confirm.  
Dean. No, it said Dean, he could read it more plainly now. Even from four feet away. And he hadn’t opened it within the last week, which the time stamp was within.  
He didn’t know how long he stared at it, but it seemed like hours, even though the clock ticking in the bathroom reminded him that it wasn’t as long as it seemed. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his breathing uneven and coming out shaky and labored, as if it cost him everything not to scream. And it did. He could feel something close to anguish built in his throat and felt it growing, winding in his chest. A chill went down his spine and he slowly slid toward the computer to click on the document.  
Clicking a few more tabs, he found exactly where the last user had left off, which most certainly was not him. That only left one other person that had been near his laptop.  
He didn’t want to think about, even closed his eyes to shut out the truth of who had read it, but it was useless.  
Dean.  
If it hadn’t been so horribly terrifying, Sam might have laughed. I mean, it was comical in any regard; to have the person he was writing about throughout the pages upon pages he’d written reading every single one of his confessions. How ironic. And dumbfounding. And dumb. How could he be so dumb?  
Panic attack or not, he needed to read, to read what he knew Dean had read. He needed to know what he knew, what he knew Sam felt now. Even if it was scary and heartbreaking.  
He figured that all this was the reason why his brother had been acting strange, isolated and angry and confused even. Sam just had figured it was always something else unrelated to their hunts or them, that it was some girl or something. Never this. He never wanted this.  
Scrolling down, he started with the first sentence in the 5th entry, reading through his recount of the Bloody Mary case, and so many more. He read through his detailed descriptions of Dean, how he had looked after their encounter with the Wendigo, Yellow Eyes, their dad’s beatings when they were kids. Even bloodied and bruised, he had been beautiful, still was beautiful. Dean had been Sam’s everything since that day their mother had died, had been the only person he’d truly loved, both as a brother and more, the only person he was sure loved him back.  
He just read and read and read until he had reached where it said Dean had left off, his last entry Sam had typed up a little over a week before. Where he talked about leaving for Stanford.  
It hurt like hell to read it again, about their first case together since telling Dad off, to not call. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but living with the two of them had been too much for him. He couldn’t stand to see Dean belittled, saving Sam from Dad’s drunkenness, his wrath, his hands as they came down in hard blows. His brother had protected him so much, had taken everything that should have been both their burden to share. He kept him in the dark and Sam hadn’t even seen it. He’d been blind and foolish and naive, thinking leaving would fix everything.  
That it would fix him and his feelings for his brother.  
He read the last few lines, where it said it hadn’t fixed anything clearly, that it just made it all worse. Missing him had been the hardest thing, and yet even Jess wasn’t distraction enough when he’d started dating her, had proposed. Especially when Dean had come that night to say Dad was missing, that he needed his help. His decision wasn’t just for Dad. In fact, if he were being honest it hadn’t had anything to do with Dad. He’d fucked them both up so bad, had delayed their futures, had raised them wrong, hadn’t been there, hadn’t cared enough. Sam would never forgive him for all the things he’d done to them both, especially to Dean.  
No, his decision wasn’t about Dad. It was about Dean, always was about Dean. When he’d agreed to go that night, it had been a decision to be by Dean’s side, nothing else. He wanted to be near his brother again, especially after seeing him for the first time in a while. He knew going back to Jess at the end of it all would never happen. He just hadn’t expected her to die was all. He’d never wanted that for her; he’d cared about her, even if it wasn’t the way he should have. It was just that Dean had taken too much of him well before she’d come along.  
Sam blinked, the words ‘I love him. I always have, still do, and now I realize that I always will.’ brandished in to his mind as his eyes traced over them slowly, so pain-staking slow.  
He stared at the blank space following it, the white paper that stared back at him. As if asking him to write something down.  
Clenching his jaw, he typed out a few words. Then a few more. He wrote until his fingers hurt, until he could hear the Impala pull up into a stall outside their room, only then closing the lid on his computer and putting it next to him on the bed as he fell onto the mattress, his head hitting the pillow and his eyes closing to make it seem like he was sleeping. So they didn’t have to talk.  
Sam heard the door open as the key twisted sharply in the lock, the click of metal turning cutting through the quietness, Dean’s footsteps coming into the small space and the door closing quietly behind him. He could hear a bag of what he assumed was food being placed onto the bed next to him, Dean sighing in his direction and sitting down to take off his boots. They clumped softly onto the floor.  
There was absolute quietness for a while, but Sam wasn’t sure if it was all in his head. He turned his head and opened both eyes to look over at his brother who was staring down at his clasped hands, the soft light from streetlights outside spilling into the room and illuminating the air behind his brother. He looked despairing, empty, overwhelmed then, and Sam couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at having made him feel this way. He knew that it was his fault he felt this way, his fault that Sam was feeling all the same things, that it was his stupid feelings that had gotten them into this mess.  
Maybe he never should have left Stanford or Jess. Maybe he should have stayed in law school, taken that interview he’d been adamant about going to and said ‘Fuck Dad’. He should have gotten married, forgotten all about Dad and tried his best to forget about Dean. He should have moved on, moved far away to put separation there between his brother and him. He should have had kids, a life, a family.   
He should have listened to his head and not his heart.  
Dean picked up his head then, his eyes meeting Sam’s before he could close them quickly enough, to make it seem like he’d still been sleeping or something so that they didn’t have to do this now.  
He could see on Dean’s face that Sam had given it away, that Dean could see Sam knew what he knew, what he’d read. Sam just knew he wasn’t going to speak first.  
Dean broke the silence after a minute or more of them staring at each other.  
“I brought you a salad.”  
Sam blinked, his heart beating faster and his eyebrows bunching in concern. Dean’s words were soft, direct, unwavering. He didn’t seem confused, at least not in the way that Sam felt. In fact, he looked almost relieved, as if it was good to have it out in the open. But it wasn’t, at least, not yet.  
He continued to talk though.  
“Has tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, ranch, and croutons. But in case that didn’t work for you, I brought a chicken wrap, too-“  
“Dean,” he heard himself say, but stopped. He couldn’t do this, talk in the dark about it all.  
Dean looked at him with those big green eyes of his, his lips slightly parted, his skin and hair illuminated by the light coming through the windows. His jacket hung off him, his jeans wrinkled and loose. He looked perfect.  
“Yeah, Sammy?”  
His brother’s voice had taken on a tone that was gentle, a tone that Sam hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t him, it just wasn’t. Dean Winchester was snarky, sarcastic, all smiles and flirt. He wasn’t caring and collective. Sam supposed that desperate times called for desperate measure, though. Maybe he was acting this way because deep down, his brother knew he couldn’t act like he usually did. He couldn’t act angry either, or confused, not when they were both exhausted and they couldn’t talk about this without waking up even worse than when they’d fallen asleep.  
Dean was looking at him with worry, leaning forward slightly out of concern. His eyes were bright and alarmed and it hurt Sam so deeply that he almost let go of the sob threatening to tear his chest open.  
“What is it?”  
It was as if he didn’t care about what had happened, as if it hadn’t been tearing them apart for the last few days. It was like they were kids again and Sam was lying on their bed crying about something or other, worrying about Dad, Dean’s cut on his cheek, the monsters just outside their door. And of course Dean was there to comfort him, to ask what was wrong, to make it better.  
Sometimes he wondered what he’d done to deserve him.  
He choked down tears, trying to gaze back at his brother with the same unwavering-ness that what etched onto Dean’s face but he found it nearly impossible. And yet, Sam still found himself speaking despite it all. “I guess I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for-” he trailed off, his eyes slipping down to those soft pink lips he’d dreamed about kissing, the lips that he hadn’t seen smile in days, hadn’t heard speak in their usual way in just as long. “Well, everything.”  
He knew it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words, not when Dean looked at him like he was still precious, even if he didn’t always understand. And how could he? How could Sam ever expect him to understand his love for him, why it was there, why he could never let him go?  
Dean laid back onto his bed, too, his head still facing Sam, their eyes still locked. They stared for a while longer before his older brother whispered into the space between them.  
“Of course. No matter what else happens, Sam-“ he trailed off. “No matter what else, you’re my brother. And I love you.”  
Sam blinked slowly, his eyelids drooping, his mind sinking into the fogginess that encompassed sleep. How could he say that, after Sam had put him through hell, after reading that Sam was in love with him? How could he tell him that and not expect it in return?  
Instead of trying to answer these questions, he just watched Dean smile, watched as everything got darker and he got more and more tired.  
The last thing he remembered was Dean watching him, and thinking that this couldn’t last. At least, not for very long. Because Dean wouldn’t love him like that ever, thinking it was sick, that he wouldn’t just suddenly change his mind about it either.  
And Sam just couldn’t live with himself knowing Dean was hurting, that he was in pain because he loved him in a way he shouldn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally gets his head out of his ass basically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a long time coming, I know but I'm finally getting my shit done and because it took so long I'm sorry. But here it is, the final chapter! I hope you guys like it because I've really enjoyed writing this even if it took me forever because of writers block (God is he a bitch) so yeah. Comment thoughts and stuff, it would mean a lot!! Thank you for reading ❤

Dean's POV:

The sheets are somewhat rough, scratching the parts of his arms that aren't covered by his t-shirt. He shifts slightly, but the friction against the fabric isn't any better and eventually he rolls to face the other way, towards Sam's bed, his feet kicking the sheet off of him until his body is bare.

Dean gives a shiver, his body shaking slightly and his muscles clenching on the bed. He groans softly, his tongue reaching out and licking his worn lips as he wraps his hands around the pillow beneath his head.

Even turned away from the window, he can see light pouring in from behind his closed eyelids. He pinches his eyes shut tighter but eventually blinks them open to see it's late morning judging by the amount of sunlight outside.

He immediately scrambles to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, his eyes focusing on his rumpled blue jeans on the ground and yanking them over his feet. His fingers twine into the denim and he feels himself yawn widely.

"Rise and shine, Sammy,"

Trying to sound cheerful, Dean feels a small smile flit into his face. He knew they were going to be alright, especially now that he had gotten over his initial repulsed shock of his brother's love for him. He knew he could live with it, maybe even... no, not yet. He and Sam had to talk before anything else. Before he started to feel the same way.

Dean tries again when he gets no response, clearing his throat loudly and talking with a more forceful tone. Maybe Sam thought his unusual lightness meant he was upset or something.

"Sam-"

He finally manages to get the pants on over his hips, standing up in the process and buttoning them up. His smile widens as he raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something to his brother when he glances up at the bed.

The very much empty bed.

Cold panic pounds into his chest, his heart suddenly hurting more than it should and all he can hear is a buzzing, a ring that won't stop. He blinks, his eyes skimming over the sheets, the rumpled comforter fallen to the floor, the vacant floor space where his brother's bag was only last night.

It's all too much.

His mind automatically thinks of the worst possible thing, that something had taken him, some supernatural force, maybe the demon they'd been hunting. Then he takes a deep enough breath to let that thought slip away, instead thinking he'd started to get ready, to go get breakfast, something, anything but the idea that he'd left. That he'd left Dean and the idea of love behind.

He races to the bathroom, hoping maybe he's in there and had somehow oddly taken his bag with him. But Dean only finds it empty. Just as bare as the bed, no trace of Sam other than the wrinkled hand towel on the vanity next to the faucet, water droplets sitting on the side of the tub.

How had he missed the sound of the water's spray earlier? How had Dean not heard any of it?

Tearing through his own bag, he pulls on his boots and runs outside to the car, trying to find the keys but failing.

He huffs out, digging out his things, patting his pockets. They're empty. And as he looks up, he notices so is the parking stall where his baby should be, where his brother should be too.

Everything is empty, including his heart and he realizes not for the first time that this is all his goddamned fault.

§

Whenever Dean is in all-out panic mode, he calls his brother. Now, is of course, the time his phone goes directly to voicemail which isn't really shocking. So instead he calls Charlie, to quell his fears.

"Hello?" comes Charlie's voice after the second ring, which he's grateful for, rough from sleep but still holding its certain finesse. "Dean?"

"Charlie, when was the last time you talked to Sam?" From just those few words, even he can hear the edge and frantic tone he's taken on but he can't help it.

"Uh, late last night? Maybe around 2am, I was up playing MarioKart with this Kevin kid online and-" she trails off, her soft words fading into a yawn. "Why?"

"He's gone."

There's a pause on the other end, as if those two words can wake someone in a matter of moments.

"What?!"

Dean can't help but notice that even she's panicked and much more awake now. Which he doesn't know is a good or bad sign.

"He's gone, Charlie and I can't-"

"Dean, Dean, slow down. Start from the beginning. What happened?"

He takes a deep breath. "I don't know-"

Some sound comes through the line, the sheets moving perhaps, some shoes being thrown to the floor, a coat being pulled from a hook. "After we talked, what happened? Tell me everything. It's important."

He takes a shaky breath, in through the nose, sputtering out through the mouth. He's unstable, frantic. He shouldn't even be driving if his speeding 28 over the limit is anything to go on.

"I came back to the motel, gave him his burger, told him that I loved him and went to bed."

She doesn't say anything for a beat or two. "That's it? No, I need details Dean. Think. He said something this morning that's freaking me out."

His eyebrows slam down together in confusion, panic, frustration. "Well damn it, Charlie, what did he say?"

The line is silent for a moment or two, the sound of rattled breathing hitching and then steadying back out as Charlie's mouth opens. "He said he couldn't hurt you."

Dean blinks, hands re-gripping the steering wheel. "What?"

"Hurt you. He didn't want to hurt you. He said he was done hurting you."

"And you didn't think to call me? Fuck, Charlie!"

He can hear her shaky breaths, something that sounds vaguely close to the verge of tears and he almost feels bad for that. But her voice comes back. "He told me not to-"

His heart drums loudly in his ears, roaring above the road noise that drifts up from the tires of the shitty rental Ford he'd had to get. "Why?"

"He said you wouldn't like it-"

"Why, Charlie." He says, his teeth clenched, voice full of something close to poison. Dean hates that he sounds murderous, especially with Charlie. But this is Sam they're talking about. Sam.

She waits a second, her end containing no background noise, as if she'd stopped getting ready to leave. As if she knows he'll want to do whatever it is she's expecting him to do by himself. He's partially grateful, partially spiteful that she knows his reactions before he does.

"He was going to find a cross-roads demon, Dean."

He's fairly certain his heart stops, that the engine cuts out, that everything that makes sense in the world is suddenly turned upside down in that moment.

Because this is Sam. Reasonable, justifiable Sam. His brother, who knows his own flaws as well as he knows Dean's. His brother, who knows Dean needs to protect him, needs to have him here and not under some sort of deal just to make this thing right between them.

Sam, who would barter his own life for Dean's own bliss ignorance to their untraditional love. Because only now is he realizing he loves Sam too. Because only now does he know that they're going to be okay, that they'll figure out whatever this is.

He can't live with the guilt of knowing Sam made a deal just to protect Dean when it should have been the other way around. When it should have been alright in the first place, when Dean shouldn't have hid his feelings and shied himself away from his brother when he needed him most.

His eyes scan the road and his heart becomes heavy. He knows he's the reason Sam left last night, so that he could try to fix this in the way he thought was best, in the way he figured Dean would want.

But it's not what he wants, not now, not ever. What he wants is Sam.

"Dean? Sweetie-"

Charlie's voice breaks through his thoughts and he can feel tears well up in his eyes, the back of his hand absent-mindedly wiping them away. 

He clears his throat.

"Charlie, cross-check where the closest cross roads are for me, will you?"

§

Sam's POV:

The warehouse was empty, the doors wide open as he steps to the front of it, gun and knife in hand, though he knows it won't do much good. Especially against a demon.

He'd been here for close to two hours, just sitting, just waiting in the car. The sun was almost completely set, the sky barely streaked with the light hue of pinks associated with a sunset.

His hands are shaking, heart pumping steadily out of control. Sam had never been this irrational, this reckless before. Both loving his brother and coming here to make an impossible decision.

He knew it was best, knew it would kill him. But he couldn't do this to Dean. He couldn't let Dean live with the knowledge that Sam was a terrible person and brother, in every sense of those words. He was sick, horribly sick. And this was the only clear solution to him.

Maybe he'd think back and realize he'd been stupidly foolish, but it hurt too much. All of it.

The demon comes right on time, as expected at midnight as he finally steps into the crossroads. Her hair is dark, dress black and green eyes staring brightly at him, hiding the hollow darkness behind them. He flinches slightly as she takes the first step forward and he sees her smile.

"Well, well. Sam Winchester. I see you and your brother have been busy,"

He feels his jaw clench unintentionally. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smiles, her bright red lips glinting starkly at him in the dark, the only light from the streetlamp behind him. "Oh, just that you guys have hunted lots of supernatural lately. Nothing more-"

Sam's hand clenches around the knife blade as he holds it at his side. He doesn't like what she's implying. "Stop."

She frowns mockingly. "Honey, if that's what you want I can. I'll leave too, if that suites you."

"No, no. I-"

She tsks in a disapproving manner, her arms crossing and a scowl on her face. "I know you don't want to be doing this, Sam. I'm not blind."

He stays silent, swallowing harshly as she begins to circle him.

"You love him."

He bites down on the inside of his cheek, to distract himself, to feel something other than the sudden sadness and pain that explodes throughout his body at the mention of it. He knows he does love Dean, that he shouldn't but can't help it. But he needs to do this for his brother, to ease his pained and confused mind. He can't pull him through more hell than he already has.

"Yes," he says softly as she comes to face him again.

Her eyes flicker to black. "So what's the problem, sweetheart?"

He tries to scowl at her as best he can but she only smirks at him. "He's my brother-"

"That hasn't stopped other people before, Sam. Ever heard of cousin-dating in the South?"

He clenches his hands again. "I can't do this to Dean, he doesn't deserve it. I have to forget-"

The demon glares at him, as if he's stupid. "Have you ever thought that maybe he isn't totally against the idea?"

Sam takes in a sharp breath, his heart pounding. "What?"

She shrugs again, scuffing a foot into the road. "I'm just trying to help, honey."

He scoffs. "When has a demon ever helped anyone in my situation? How could you possibly help?"

There's a change in the air around them, something charged with potential, danger. He takes a step back automatically, even as she takes a step forward.

"I could make him fall in love with you."

He doesn't think he hears her right. Dean love him back? No, that couldn't happen, couldn't be right.

"You can't-"

"Oh, but I can. I can do almost anything if you agree to it. Just one kiss is all it takes sweetie,"

He shakes his head after a few moment of silence. "No, I-"

She rolls her eyes. "What do you want, Sam? You want Dean, right? Well guess what, it's as easy as this: you give me your soul, I give you whatever your heart desires and that's obviously Dean."

He shakes his head, clenching his eyes closed. He can't do that, make Dean fall in love with him. Right?

"He's just a pretty face, Sam. He doesn't know why he wants, how much he could have with you. He's missing out."

She touches his arm, making him flinch hard and open his eyes. Her smile shines back at him and it chills him to the bone.

"He doesn't want me, and he wouldn't want that."

"How do you know?"

Sam sighs. "I just- I know."

She raises a skeptical eyebrow, her smirk sharp and calculated. "Well why don't you ask him?" She says, bobbing her head past his shoulder.

His heart skips a beat, his feet taking a few steps away from her before he looks back towards the Impala he had driven here, seeing a Ford pull up into the grass at a fast speed that startles him. Sam swallows hard, looking back to the demon.

"How did you do that? What is this?"

She smiles softly. "It's not a trick Sam." She steps closer again. "And if you want him, this is the only time to do it."

He glanced at her before fixing his gaze on his brother who's running towards them, shouting Sam's name at the top of his lungs. Dean looks beautiful, even from this distance, just like usual. He's panicked though, and it hurts Sam more than he thought it would. What is he even doing here?

"What-"

"Sam," the demon says urgently. "It's now or never. So what's it gonna be?"

Her eyes are back to normal, a bright green that's intoxicatingly familiar. He looks back to Dean one more time, feeling the demon step closer.

"I can't-" he says softly, turning back to her.

Her smile falters, her voice soothing, almost comforting and that startles him most. "Then why did you come, Sam?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess I didn't realize that it doesn't matter if he doesn't love me. It doesn't matter because we'll fix this. And I don't need your help to do it." Sam blinks, steps closer to her until they're standing only inches apart. "I'm sorry,"

She smiles. "Don't be." Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek and he starts back before she shakes her head, telling him she's not about to kiss him like he'd thought. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Sam."

And then, she's gone, leaving the faint smell of sulfur and the aching feeling of both regret and love deep in his lungs.

§

Dean's POV:

He's shouting Sam's name as loud as he fucking can but his stupid brother isn't listening to a word of it. Not one fucking word. Because if he were, he'd have stopped what he was doing, what he was thinking of doing.

Dean watches as the demon she-devil that came here in the first place to help his brother with his idiotic deal is almost pressing her whole body against Sam. Of course, he can't see her face or her lips, but he most certainly sees her hand snake it's way up his face to cup his cheek, seeing his brother lurch back slightly.

As if the impact of her lips had startled him.

Of fucking course he's too late. This whole thing pretty much sums up what his life has been like the past couple weeks, the pure hell and chaos of it. Except that this is worse, much worse. Because this is permanent, and it's permanent for Sam. It means they'll lose whatever they have.

Dean realizes he doesn't actually know what the deal was, but it doesn't matter because it's a sealed deal with lips and all. And it was done to protect him of all people, the person who had read that stupid computer, who had acted angry about it when Sam should have been, when Sam should have felt betrayed and angry. He's thinking that his brother came here because maybe he was as upset and terrified as Dean was, and maybe still is.

If he weren't so scared right now, he'd be pissed enough to beat the shit out of Sam for his stupidity despite all that.

"Sam!" He shouts again, his breath more labored as he runs the last dozen or so yards towards his brother who turns around finally. 

His face is slightly confused, but mostly guilty. Like he's a cornered puppy. The brown locks of hair fall slightly into his face as he looks down at his foot kicking the gravel beneath them, Dean approaching slowly now and coming to a stop just in front of him. His hands attempt to reach out for a moment but he pulls back slightly, nervous Sam will flinch away from the contact.

"Sammy," he breaths, trying to think of anything else to say because nothing makes sense, nothing seems right. How could he have made that deal? How can he stand here and think everything has changed because he'd agreed for it to?

Sam looks up slowly, his hazel eyes flashing with regret and Dean feels like a fist is clenching his heart hard in his chest. Squeezing the life out of it with just one look.

"Dean-" his brother starts, his voice shaking when he finishes saying his name and that's all it takes.

He lurches forward, his arms wrapping around Sam, fingers clenching into the fabric of his jacket as he closes his eyes and just hugs him. Hugs him because whatever may happen, whatever had happened, they can get through this. He can get through this as long as he has Sam.

"Dean?" Sam breathes, his body rigid, arms splayed at his sides until a hesitant hand comes up to grasp his shoulder lightly.

He almost feels relieved, in a way. Despite everything, he's glad his brother isn't dead in a ditch, isn't going off on a hunt all on his own to get himself killed. He'd done something stupid, but that was beside the point right now.

Dean pulls back his face, but keeps his arms hugging his torso for awhile longer, his eyes just gazing at Sam's face as they're only inches apart, memorizing his features as his lips part involuntarily. He loves him. There's no denying it, especially when he realizes that the panic he felt before wasn't just because he was worried like any normal person. No, he was worried on a different level, one where loved ones and lovers are put. And maybe a few minutes ago he was having a hard time deciding which one Sam fell into. But now...

Sam opens his mouth to speak, but Dean just shakes his head and talks over him. "I was so worried about you-"

And he knows it's out of character. They don't say stuff like that, ever. They might yell, tell the other one off on how what they did was stupid as hell but not in such a caring tone or in gentle words.

His brother looks wrecked, his hands dropping as he wriggles out of his hold, stepping back slightly. There's not much distance between them still, the air turning poignant.

Sam opens his mouth, but Dean lurches forward, blurts the first thing that pops into his head so he doesn't have to be crushed by the words his brother might possibly utter at that moment.

"What deal did you make, Sam?"

He blinks. "Deal?" Pausing, he licks his lips. "Dean,"

"Sam." His voice is attempting to be hard now, back to unforgiving if he did something to fuck up whatever had been forming between them because damn it, he doesn't care if he was being selfish right now. He wants Sam, wants him so badly and he doesn't care what that means in the big scheme. He just knows he loves him beyond any shadow of a doubt. "What deal-"

Sam shakes his head. "I didn't make a deal, Dean."

He looks at him, eyebrows raising to his hairline. "Didn't make-" he trails off. 

God, how could he be so stupid? Of course, that was it. Sam came here to forget about all this, to forget he even loved Dean in that way. That demon had wiped him clean in that regard and if he wasn't so heartbroken he's be angry right now.

"You don't remember," he whispers simply, his voice cracking. Dean can feel his facial expression crumble and it's all he can do not to turn and run in the other direction.

"Remember what?"

He looks at Sam again, the confusion there registering on his features and it breaks something inside him, not his heart, but the thing that loved him. The part of him that thought this could possibly turn out well, that it could work.

"Sammy-" he says softer, a shiver running through his body and settling in his bones. "You-"

Sam looks concerned now, hands reaching out but not quite touching him like he wants. "What, Dean?"

"You made that deal to forget, right? You made a deal to forget about us, to forget about me," he says, broken.

Sam steps closer, but Dean places a hand onto his chest, holding him back. The contact points where his fingers touch his shirt are hot, electrifying and he wants to scream, to cry. "Dean, I-"

"You asked her to have you forget. To forget you loved me?" He stops, swallows hard and clenches his jaw as he looks out into the field off to his left, over Sam's shoulder. He has to try and compose himself, choke something out. "You don't remember loving me, how I got upset and confused and angry because I didn't know what the hell was going on after I read those entries on your damn computer." He looks back to Sam, his mouth hinged open, eyes sharp and sad, eyebrows quirked in a forlorn expression. "I kept reading though. I kept reading because I thought then that I was just curious, just wanting to know why and how you could do such a thing, love me like that." Dean has to clench his eyes so they don't well up with unshed tears. "I thought I was angry. I thought I deserved to be upset about it. But-" he looks back up at his brother, who has somehow wrapped his hands around Dean's forearms, clinging to him like a lifeline, like support.

The wind rustles the corn husks around them and it's eerily quiet for a few moments. Sam stays quiet, waiting patiently and he's surprised he doesn't jump in to ask what the hell Dean's talking about. But he just keep barreling on, praying to anyone listening that he doesn't interrupt.

"I still don't know why, I guess. I've heard it before and I'm sure I'll hear it again: I'm just a pretty face, Sam. You could do-" he sucks in an unsteady breath. "You could do so much better than me. And you should. I-" he licks his lips, trailing off and glancing down at his boots. "I don't deserve you. I never would have at the beginning of all this, but now-"

Sam's hand clasps his chin after awhile, lifting his head up and he's scared to meet his expression. So he doesn't. He closes his eyes instead because his mind is screaming avoid avoid avoid.

"Dean, look at me-"

"I don't want you to stop loving me, Sam." He manages, his eyes closing completely and feeling a lone tear trickle down his left cheek. "Not after I found out that-" Dean sniffles, shakes his head quickly and chokes out his next words, "when I found out I love you," 

He's scared of what he'll find if he looks at his brother, the confusion there that would be impossible to ever forget. And he just can't stand to see that after what he's realized he feels for him.

"Dean-"

He swallows again, his throat feeling small and constricted, his heart empty and his head screaming. He can't do this.

"Please, Dean. Just look at me, I promise-"

Dean shakes his head, fingers clenching on his brother's chest without meaning to and he almost pulls away completely when Sam's hand snakes its way up to grasp his shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist loosely.

"What do you promise?" Dean whispers.

He finds himself slowly opening his eyes, his gaze locking onto those muddy hazel depths that shine back at him. Dean's chest flutters and he suddenly realizes how close they are, how his hands are trapped between their bodies.

Sam smiles at him, his dimples showing and he feels comforted even before he opens his mouth to speak. "I promise that I couldn't stop loving you, even if I tried, Dean."

He blinks, his bottom lip trembling slightly for a moment. His voice is stuck in his throat and everything suddenly slams back into him.

Sam's smile is bright and glowing, a sight for Dean's sore eyes after feeling like he's lost control of everything. He doesn't say anything, just holds onto Dean until he buries his face in Sam's chest, a sob wracking his body with relief.

"When you left, I thought-" he gasps, sucking in a breath with a small hiccup of delirium. "I thought I'd lost you, Sammy,"

He can feel his brother's steady heart through the flannel fabric between them, the pulse just below where his cheek rests on his chest. Sam hums in acknowledgement, hugging him impossibly closer, their hips touching and it feels like another promise to him.

"You didn't lose me, and you won't, Dean." Sam whispers, his tone serious and soft, voice low.

They stay like that awhile, wrapped up in each other until Dean can't feel the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and his heart rate has returned to a normal pace, breathing back under control.

He pulls his face back eventually until he's looking him in the eye again. Swallowing, he parts his lips. "Ever? Because-" he blinks, "I don't think I could stand the idea of us not being together,"

Sam smiles that lopsided grin that he's come to appreciate over the years, despite everything between them. And now, it feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest from it's sweetness and familiarity. "Ever. I'll be right here to annoy you with my geeky research talk and awkwardness, my weird workout routines and those constant bitch faces that you secretly love."

He can't help the smile that slowly graces his face at that, a chuckle breaking free from his mouth. "Well that almost sounded like a deal if I've ever heard one. Seems like you made one tonight after all," Dean smiles deeper, fixing his gaze on Sam's chapped lips that seem to hover just in front of him, not daring to blink as his brother holds his breath. "Just-" he trails off, his gaze transfixed for a moment before he smirks and glances up again, "-no chick flick moments from now on, bitch."

Sam laughs, his body rumbling beneath Dean's hands, eyes crinkling around the corners and he suddenly realizes he feels... happy. Pure happiness for the first time in weeks. Maybe in forever if he's being honest.

"I can't promise that, jerk." Sam says with a laugh.

He shrugs. "It was worth a shot. But be warned," his finger taps Sam's chest and he tries to narrow his eyes convincingly enough, but judging by his brothers shit-eating grin he's not doing well. "I'll have to go fucking ninja on your ass if you tell anyone what happened, how I was the biggest sap there ever was."

Sam laughs again but it's just as light as before, and this time his hands squeeze around Dean, pulling him forward so their foreheads rest against one another. His eyes shine just as bright as his smile when he looks down at him. "You can go ninja on my ass anytime, Dean."

Dean smirks, quirking an eyebrow at that and running his nose along Sam's cheek, smiling at the shiver it causes to run down him. "Sounds like another, better deal to me, Sammy,"

His eyes close as he spans the small gap between them, rough lips brushing together lightly in something that's long over-due. Dean realizes that it's gentle and loving and most definitely never going to get old.

Then again, with Sam he's always felt that way and doesn't see that ever changing.


End file.
